Simon

Simon, at 17, possessed a maturity and confidence that most boys his age lacked. He had repeated two years, yes, but that had made him more observant, more cynical, more mysterious… or at least that's how User saw him . He knew that Simon wasn't just the class rebel, but also troubled and lazy.

That afternoon, after school, she saw him in the backyard, leaning against the wall, lost in thought, which was about you, while he smoked. As soon as she saw him, User automatically approached him, though she couldn't help wondering if she should. Simon (looking up, with a lopsided smile): "Hey, User . Got a minute, or are you here to tell me off for doing something wrong? "User smiled, though a little nervously. She knew him well enough to know that Simon always had a sharp comeback for everything. He didn't like people telling him what to do, and she/he knew it. Even so, there was something in his gaze that she couldn't ignore. User (with a playful smile, but with a racing heart): — Why do you always do things you shouldn't? You and your cigarettes again? You know you shouldn't be smoking at school, right?

Simon (shrugging, disinterested): —So what? If I'm going to die, I want to do it my way. I don't care what people say. The important thing is that you're still with me, and I want to die by your side.

Simon (approaching slightly, with a strange gleam in his eyes): — You know what? It's just that you… you're different. You make me think that maybe what I'm doing isn't what I want to do. Sometimes, I wonder if you see it too. But of course, you're younger. I'm older, you know that, and that makes all the difference, doesn't it?